Just too much
by ohsosirius
Summary: I understand what he's implying. I understand it so well. But what I don't understand is why I'm opening the curtains instead of closing them.***** A/N My apologies cause you'll probably find some grammar mistakes since I actually speak spanish, but I did my best and constructive critisicm is always welcome! Discl: I saddly do not own anything (I wish I did)


It's Saturday. And it's late, like around 11 pm. And where am I? Not in the Common Room, with all other seventh years drinking and smoking and having a blast. And possibly shagging -yeah, some of them are definitely shagging, my bets on Black and… well with him you never now, he probably just fucked all Gryffindor by now. Back to me, coming back from the library in a Saturday night, minding my own business (who wouldn't wanna be me? Yeah, I know…) and what HAD TO happen? I had to bump into some fucking couple who are so fucking preoccupied with finding a place to fuck while the Head Girl is trying to go to bed not being seen by anybody. And who else but the glorious Head Boy with that blonde girlfriend –if that's what he calls his shag of the week-. You would think that girls have a little more self-respect than that, but nah, they don't.

I try to ignore him as I walk past him, but of course he sees me and of course he just feels the need to say something. "Alone tonight, Evans? Didn't find a poor bloke to scare and probably turn gay?". Ignore him Lily, just ignore him. I actually ignore him until I hear that stupid blonde's laughter and it's just – it's just too much for someone who a few hours ago received a letter telling her that her sister got married and didn't even invited her to the wedding, and that she's selling the house – the house where she lived with her not so long ago deceased parents… So yeah, just too much. As I turn around, I can see Potter's face a little more pale – he knows what to expect when I get angry at him, he very well does, and that girl –what's her name? Mary? Caty? Like I could care less, that girl… doesn't she effying realize that I'm actually Head Girl? "I could take some points if I want to, and I may, you know?" I tell her. And she's a Ravenclaw, so she does not want that and she looks at Potter like saying "Sorry, house pride, blabla, better than fucking blabla" and she leaves. I can feel Potter cursing me for he's not gonna fuck tonight and it makes me feel so fucking good.

He approaches me – what's happening? And he's too close, closer than we've ever been. And he lowers his head, looking me through those glasses of him and he tells me that I fucking ruined his night, and why don't I go fuck –well, he says, who would ever wanna fuck some crazy boring bitch like me?. And it actually hurts, cause sometimes I'm more insecure than I let others see… Not that I hadn't had a boyfriend of two, and I even shagged the last one, who didn't dump me but just graduated last year and we decided that a long distance relationship was not on the calendar for us. And as he stands there insulting me, I realize he does not even begin to know what he's talking about. "Why don't you go back to fucking that loser of Michael, eh? Oh, right, he's not here, so what are you doing so late Evans? Having fun at the library?". Hate him, I hate him so fucking much as he stands there, looking at me as if I were the most undesirable thing in the entire world. And just as he grins and is about to leave me there, I have an idea. Yeah, seemed like a great idea at the moment, not so much now that I'm two corridors away and walking so fast 'cause I'm so embarrassed of myself.

"Yeah, you know what Potter? I might just need a good fuck, don't I?" As I say it I see his eyes getting bigger, he didn't expect me – the oh so prude Lily Evans- to say something like this? "And maybe…just maybe, I want _you_ to fuck me. What do you think? Just as a little favor, to make my days brighter, and have the great honor of being just another whore who slept with you?" He looks at me and I really think he cannot believe what he's listening. He approaches a little bit more – too close, too close- and he looks at me, not saying a word. I won, I so won. When he opens his mouth, and tries to say something, though not a word goes out of his lips, I get a little bit closer. And a little bit more, until our bodies are so close I can smell his perfume, and I must admit it smells too good, too manly. And then, I do what he does not expect in a hundred years. As I look at him I move my arm, which he follows closely. I dunno if he's more afraid I'll hex him or kiss him. I move my arm and I so carefully put it in his chest, and then my hand starts to go down, and I can feel his breathing getting faster, and as I reach his belly and I keep going down, and I feel his trousers a little too tight and I can definitely feel them getting tighter and tighter. He just can't take it anymore and he backs off, looking at me as if I were some crazy witch – which I am, he drives me so fucking crazy. "What the hell Evans?" He's still looking at me. I grin as I had never grinned in my life, and I tell him that he should not mess with me, and I walk away… I can feel him staring, probably not being yet able to move.

I walk two, three, ten, twenty steps –I count them, for I'm yet too shocked- until I turn and start to run. I can't even believe what I did. Shit shit shit. SHIT. I'm running and thinking I should exercise a little bit more, I'm already tired and I didn't run even for three minutes. But I'm alone and I just need that now.

The day after those holy events in the corridor:

I can't even think about getting to breakfast, so I'm really lucky it's Sunday and I can stay in my room pretending to be asleep. My friends are all down there, probably enjoying the sun and the spring, for which I'm definitely not in the mood.

I'm recalling last night events. I touched Potter in his… his… oh man I can't say it. But that's not even the worse part. He seemed to like it, even though he looked really scared. And me? It was bizarre. It was gross and totally inappropriate but I'll do it again, and a thousand times again.

I hear someone coming closer, but I know it's some of the girls. My curtains are almost shut, but through a little hole between the two fabrics I can see the door. And it is not any of the girls, it is actually no one who is opening the door, and closing it, and then I can hear footsteps coming closer to me and what the fuck? And I hear a voice which I fast recognize as the great James Potter. I don't even ask how he got here, for I know the Marauders have their way around the castle. And he's saying "You know Evans? You should not touch a guy's cock and then run away, you leave him all night thinking about it. And since you scared the lovely girl I was with yesterday, you are gonna have to take care of it, you know?" I understand what he's implying. I understand it so well. But what I don't understand is why I'm opening the curtains instead of closing them. And why I'm looking at him and telling him that he will have to convince me to do it, that it will not come that easy. But when he grins, and puts one hand in my left breast and another hand slowly goes up my leg until it touches my hips, and goes under my short, and gets closer and closer and closer to my knickers, and his other hand is still in my breast, and I raise my head and look at those hazel eyes… And that's when I realize that maybe he's not all bad. Maybe he has something good to offer and… And his hand just got under my knic…–oh my God, denying this does not even cross my mind, but instead I find myself unbuttoning his jeans and searching his mouth and kissing him. Kissing him like I would never kiss anyone else, although I don't know yet and there are so many fights, so much make up sex, and so many laughs to come.


End file.
